


Blood is the Color of Love

by SophieJE619, SophieJE619_Tumblr (SophieJE619)



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, I don't usually write gore but fuck it, M/M, Mild Gore, Multi, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Other, POV Female Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-02-18 12:17:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21960484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SophieJE619/pseuds/SophieJE619, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SophieJE619/pseuds/SophieJE619_Tumblr
Summary: This on my tumblr blog. Go check it out if you like what you see here!https://bloodisthecoloroflove.tumblr.com
Relationships: Alastor (Hazbin Hotel) & Reader, Alastor (Hazbin Hotel)/Reader, Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel) & Reader, Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel)/Reader, Charlie Magne & Reader, Charlie Magne/Reader, Lucifer Magne/Reader, Niffty (Hazbin Hotel) & Reader
Kudos: 43





	1. Chapter 1

“Drycleaning d’Antoinette,” I sighed, as I answered the phone. “In honor of the Cleanse, we have a discount on stain removal.” “Oh, I’m sure you exercise that discount daily for yourself, Cherry Belle.” Came the voice of a very familiar Radio Demon. “I told you not to call me that, Alastor.” “Turn on the TV, I’ve got some fun for you, Strawberry Syrup.” “Or that,” I grabbed the remote. “What channel?” “666 News of course, Cornflower.” “Much better,” When I flipped to the right channel, my eyes fell up on… “Is that Charlotte Magne?” I said aloud. “Indeed it is, my dear Antoinette!” “… What is she doing?!!” “Fighting with Katie Killjoy, of course!” “Why though!” “I’ll explain everything while you tailor my coat, Cornflower.” And then the line went dead. “What?!” I thought aloud, right as that stupid bell signaled a customer.

Lo and behold, it was just the demon I was talking to, because who else would be important enough to walk into my establishment at that very moment? Nobody worth mentioning, that’s for sure! “You‘re not making me get up for you.” I said, reaching for his waistcoat. “Very well then, I’ll just have to find my own fun.” Alastor chuckled, handing me the garment. Sure enough, the rips in his hemline were either gone or distastefully long and frayed. “Honestly, how do you keep fucking up my lovingly handmade tears, I even sitch the seems for you so they last longer!” I complained, grabbing my sewing kit. “What can I say, my Dear,” Alastor grinned. “A man like myself has to play hard to keep from growing bored!”

I arched an eyebrow. “Is that why a little birdie keeps telling me about some girl named Niffty? How could you pass up _me_ for some 50’s chick with a trashy busted up sewing machine!” “She doesn’t use a sewing machine, Cornflower. And why would I bother your fine establishment if I just wanted a patch job without chatter between good friends?” “Because I’m suspicious that she’s the one fucking up my hem job.” I sneered. But in not paying close enough attention to my hands, my sneer was quickly wiped away by the sudden sting of my needle pricking my finger. “Ouch!” I yelped, putting the offensive wound in my mouth. Alastor laughed as I flipped him off with the same hand. Taking the digit out, I saw there was indeed a red dot forming into a bead there. “Fuckin— I couldn’t finish my muttering before I was seized in a coughing fit.

Quickly shoving everything onto my desk and away from me, I grabbed for a tissue and put it to my mouth, knowing that something was coming up. Looking down at the red stain in the middle of the disposable cloth, I sighed. Beneath me, another red puddle was forming thanks to my switch movements, and a deep ache reared its ugly head in my stomach. Blood. Blood everywhere. All over me, my clothes, my chair. The urge to cry gripped at me, but I defiantly pushed it down. No need for more of a mess to clean up.

“I think this hem job will do quite nicely, Cherry Belle. Enjoy your gore.” Alastor said, turning to walk out as he threw a dollar my way. “Turn off the sign on your way out, would you?” I called, but he didn’t listen. Unless I got up and made a red trail to the door and back, anyone could walk in and see the mess I made. Well, I’ll have to get up anyway. “Ugh..” I hate having to do this.

Pressing my palms into the desk, I counted down from three. “3… 2… 1… nngh.” The rush of liquid down my legs made me grimmace. I don’t look back at my chair, as I track red footsteps across my harwood floor, taking care to avoid the rug and doormatt. Flick, click. With the open sign off and the door locked, I made for the back room. It served as my apartment. New skirt, new legging, both black of course. Shoes are overrated. You can’t chuck them in a washing machine and be done with it. Not that I get out much anyway.

Inside my little cabinet are bottles of Hydrogen Peroxide. My personal supply. I grab the open one and go to the bathroom. I shouldn’t take long in the shower, I know, but underneath the spray is the only place where I feel clean…. somewhat. It’s virtually impossible not to see the water turn from clear to red as it sluices down my body and towards the drain. Standing there for about five minutes, at least it felt like five minutes to me, I scrubbed the rest of the blood off, with a tiny bit of the Hydrogen Peroxide. It stung on my wounded finger, but that’s fine. At least the blood is gone.

Getting out of the shower is my least favorite part of this ordeal. There’s no water to rinse away the new streaks of red that will soon trickle down my legs if I’m not quick enough. Unfortunately, I rarely am. Thankfully it’s not nearly as tedious a process as it once was in decades past. I’m lucky this time. Emerging from the bathroom, I sprinkle some Hydrogen Peroxide on my dirty clothes, especially where the stains are, and chucked them in one of the washing machines in the back. Now to tend to the chair and the floor. My mop has become one of my most prized possesions through the years.

As I’m just about finished, I switch the sign back on. ‘Open’ it says, and the door gets unlocked. This is my afterlife. Blood stains and Clean up hours. I spend my days washing people’s clothes, because there will never be a shortage of dirty laundry nor masses of people that don’t want to do it themselves. If only I could get _mine_ to stay clean too.


	2. Chapter 2

It wasn’t until the day was over that I remembered Alastor having wanted to tell me something regarding little Princess Charlie’s fiasco with Kelly Killbitch. I decided to ring him up while my dinner of cheap noodles was cooking.

“Hello! Pleasure to be speaking with you, darling. This is Alastor! Who might have the honor of calling me?” “Hey, Alastor, it’s me. Say wasn’t there something you were going to say, today? Y’know, before you bailed on me?” “Ah yes, there was. Tell me, how’d that little episode go for you, Cornflower?” The Radio Demon asked, his signature grin oozing through the line. “As well they can when your landlord doesn’t do jack shit to help.” I grumbled, chugging on a lukewarm water bottle. “But anyway, irrelevant. What were you going to say?”

“Well, I’m glad I didn’t tell you before, because I just made this all the more interesting!” He said. “And you, my dear, will eat it up like those chocolates you love when I buy them for you!” “What chocolates? You never buy me candy. You don’t even steal it for me!” I said, wishing he’d just get to the point. “Why the ones on your desk of course, darling.” I looked to see a black tentacle retreating away from a new bag of my favorite french chocolate truffles. “… Kiss ass.” I said, eat just one… or four. “Only for you, Cherry Belle.” He sneered.

“So what is this new interesting thing? Quit stalling!” I said, listening for my timer to go off. “Little Princess Charlie has established a hotel!” Alastor began, “But, not just any hotel, no no no! The goal of her ‘happy’ little project is redeem sinners and send them up to heaven!” I froze. “…. She wants to what-now?” “I know! Isn’t it the most hilariously insane idea you ever heard?!” Alastor laughed. I hesitated. “Yeah… But if it’s so dang crazy, what are you get involved in it for? Surely you don’t think redemption’s possible!” “Of course I don’t, my dear! But I’m bored, and this is entertaining! So I’ve elected to help!”

‘Okay, I know I did not just hear him say that.’ I thought, as my timer beeped, signaling that my dinner was ready. “Alastor, I know demons don’t get sick, and you’re not the type to do those trashy kinds of drugs that make you loopy. So what the hell happened to you?! There’s no way you could possibly mean ‘help’ when you say ‘help’!” “Oh, you wound me, Cornflower.” Alastor chuckled, clearly not meaning what he said. “Nothing happened to me. I’m too powerful for anything to happen to me!” “Oh, so you can help Charlie with her ‘happy’ hotel but you can’t be bothered to switch off my god damn sign on your way out the door?!” I seethed.

“There’s no fun in switching off a sign for you. That would only detract from your suffering, my dear Antoinette. Charlie’s hazbin hotel, on the other hand, will suffer no matter what I do! Me helping her is just me grabbing a front row seet for the show!” I huffed. “Oh, don’t be mad at me, darling. Go eat your chocolates. Or if you want, I could invite you over for some Jambalaya!” “My dinner’s already made. Enjoy yours, Alastor.” I said, hanging up.

Sitting down with my noodles, I found myself mulling over my own thoughts. If Princess Charlie was opening a hotel, she’d need some guests to come around. But who in hell would want to stay at a hotel like the one she’s making? Nobody would dare come anywhere near it, and not just because Alastor’s involved in the whole big mess of a thing that it is. Not unless… “Achoo!” I sneezed, and before I knew it, there was a steady dripping of blood into my bowl of dinner. “Ugh,” I groaned, grabbing a tissue. At least I didn’t move too much this time.

Still, it’s no secret that my constant bloodloss bothers me. After all, life is pain and all people suffer for no reason. They bleed and hurt and ache, only to die. And then, Hell makes everything ten times worse. All the blood I lost in my lifetime, I’ve lost 100 times over down here. One would think that Lucifer would at least keep his witches in comfort, considering they were just short of his mistresses when they were alive! But I suppose the devil is far less competent than the living masses thought. It’s Lilith who really runs this joint. I guess I should’ve known better than to rendezvous with her husband.

Perhaps then I would’ve gone upstairs instead of down when I died. And maybe I wouldn’t have to deal with my postmortem condition. Pulling the tissue back from my face, the flow restarted. I don’t know what it was about that moment, but I could feel something inside me shift. Maybe I’d inhaled too much vaporized Hydro Peroxide and my brain was forming an emergency plan to recover from the chemical onslaught in my lungs. Maybe I’d bled more than I thought I had today, and my body was hurtling into a distorted reality because of it’s inability to compensate for the amount of bloodloss. Maybe I was just tired of tasting blood on the tip of my tongue from where it’d trickled down to my lips from my nostrils.

Whatever it was, I knew there was only one thing to do. If Charlie needed guests to redeem, I’d fill that role for her. But that could wait until after I finished my dinner. No use letting some unwanted iron additives stop me from enjoying a meal. I stuffed the tissue up my nostril and gulped down the rest of my food.


	3. Chapter 3

Beep.

Beep beep beep.

Riiiiiiiiiiiing.

“Hey, Alastor?” I asked, putting my feet up. “You called back fast. Is there something I can do for you?” Came his ever amused voice. “Where _is_ this hotel?” You heard Alastor chuckle, before giving you the address. “Why do you want to know?” He added at the end. “It had occured to me that you may only be doing this because the hotel sits on _your_ turf, ensuring that they would have to pay rent to _you_ and giving you an opportunity to rat them out of their own estate _._ ” “Why, not at all, my clever cornflower! Though I do wish I’d come up with that idea— “Don’t. You. Dare.” I growled, descreetly writting down the address. “If that _were_ what you were doing I would’ve had a fit on Charlie’s behalf!”

“You’re such a _saint, Cherry Belle._ ” Alastor sneered. “Look in a mirror, Mr. I-want-to-help.” I snapped, hanging up the phone. Staring down at the piece of paper, my mind was made up. Tomorrow, I go to the hotel. I don’t know how long I’ll stay, but I’m packing everything. “3… 2… 1.” I count down, before getting up, feeling the blood rush downward. Always such a pain in the ass. Or in my case, the ovaries. Deep breath in, out. Time to pack.

I got every peice of clothing in my closet, in my washing machines, everything that was mine. All my clients’ laundry was finished and hung out on a portable rack. Even that beutiful black fur coat. Damn I want it. I got my suitcases stuffed and packed, I double locked every bullet-proof window, I triple locked every door with padlocks. I unplugged my sign. I wouldn’t be needing it on. My savings were removed from my vault under my bed. A few black drop marks sat on the top of cube, from where my mattress had soaked red all the way through.

I emptied my cabinets. I can’t risk letting stains set at the hotel. And I’m not letting anyone clean them but me. Nobody needs to know about the red zones, after all. I put my one pair of shoes by the door. After doing one last check that I had all I needed, I decided to sleep in the bathtub tonight. Naked. It’d be easier to clean in the morning.

* * *

“So this is the ‘Happy’ Hotel.” I muttered, seeing the sign that states Alastor had changed the name. It did look a little bit crazy. “Well… nothing wrong with going in and asking a few questions. Right? I’ll just… keep my luggage in a discreet place…” I took a deep breath and went to knock on the door. It immediately opened to reveal a grey moth demon. She looked me up and down, as I crossed my legs tightly together. “Can I help you?” She asked. “Uh… I think so?” I began. “If I’m correct, this is the… Happy… Hotel?” I saw her eyes go a tiny bit wider with surprise. “… I just have a few questions.”

She blinked before turning back inside and calling, “Hey, Charlie?” “What?” A girl called from inside. “I think we have a potential customer… I think?” Before I could say anything, the sound of footsteps bouncing towards the door filled my ears. “Really?!!” Came the elated yet shocked voice of none other than Charlotte Magne, herself. I was frozen, and partially terrified of what to do next. She was so… _bubbly_.

“Uhh…” I stuttered. “I never said I wanted to stay. I just have a few questions…” The princess’s excitement visibly deflated a little but she still beemed with excitement. “Of course! Come in!” I hesitated. If they saw my luggage, they might- “Why, Cornflower. What are you doing here?” Alastor grinned at me. I immediately flushed. Out of my peripheral, I saw Charlie go from happy to confused. “Alastor,” I greeted him, regaining my composure before I got a nosebleed. “Good to see you.” He chuckled, “Let me get those for you, my dear.” With a snap of his fingers, my bags were gone. “Hey!” I growled. “Do come in.” Was the radio demon’s reply.

* * *

I was sitting on a couch in the main lobby, my eyebrows furrowed and with Charlie and the moth demon, ‘Vaggie’, staring at me. I knew exactly what they were wondering. ‘How do I know the Radio Demon?’ My eyes glanced to Alastor, who was completely enjoying something else and had no concern for my predicament whatsoever. “So,” I finally start, “It’s nice to meet you guys. I’m just curious about this…” I look all around the decrepid place. “Hotel. How exactly does it work?” “Well!” Charlie bounces up with smile. “This hotel is my personal project, in which I rehabilitate sinners to go up to heaven!”

I couldn’t contain my shock. “Heaven?! You mean…” I look up. “The place where the angels come from?!” “Exactly!” She smiled. “But…” I stammered. I had so many questions. What would happen once they were rehabilitated? How would Heaven react to a wave of souls from hell knocking on the pearly gates? What if you end up in Hell again afterwards? Would you ever even be able to come back? “… How?” I settled for my first question. “By bringing to light all the redeeming qualities you possess.” Charlie said. “Like… how polite you are! I haven’t heard a single curse word out of you!”

“FUCK!!!” A cat demon yelled from the… front desk. We all turned to stare at him. “… What.” He asked, going back to his cheep booze. “Eheh, that’s Husk, he mans our front desk.” Charlie said. Husk grunted a gruff greeting. I nodded. “And… once we’re redeemed… We go to Heaven?” “That’s the plan, yes.” Charlie nodded. I mulled it over in my head. So then after being rehabilitated, we’d never be able to stay down here. Sure, Hell’s not the perfect life, but it had become home over the past 143 years. I just wanted to stop the bleeding…

But now that I thought about it, I was a fool to think this would be the answer to my suffering. After the sins I’ve committed to end up here, how could I possibly leave? I knowingly did this to myself, and the apple cannot be unbitten. Lucifer himself warned me of this. And by my failure to heed his warning, Lilith condemned me.

… Then again, here stood their daughter, willing to help me in the only way she knew how. Surely this could mean that I wasn’t doomed to bleed until I’m purged, right? At the very least, the final resort, Charlotte Magne was _powerful_. While her father had refused to heal me of this curse, she held his power as well as her own, plus her ethics. If her mother could impose this suffering of me, she could remove it.

I nodded quietly. “In that case, my next question is this.” I looked to Vaggie. “What are your rates?” Charile lit up like a neon sign at the question. “You mean you’d like to stay???” She all but squealled. “Sure,” I said, smiling awkwardly. ‘Jesus, I’m gonna need to get used to her…’ “Right this way,” She said, leading me to the front desk. “We’ll get you all settled.” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Alastor tilt his head with malicious curiosity, and snap his fingers again. My luggage appeared beside him.

“By the way,” Charlie asked, pulling out a blank red notebook labeled ‘Registry’ “I don’t believe you’ve introduced yourself.” “Oh,” I blinked. “Antoinette. No last name.” “Antoinette,” Charlie wrote down my name. “Welcome to the Happy Hotel!”


End file.
